Once Upon A Time...A Political Tale
by Duskykitten
Summary: WHOO HOO! ChikAmata's back with another disturbing political tale, this time in fairy tale format. Watch out, it may scare you, or even worse you might not get the jokes. Well if you hate politicians here's where to go, and if any conservatives protest


Once upon a time in a land far, far away, there lived a King called King George I. He lived for four hundred short years in the White Palace before he slaughtered the economy and started wars out of control in countrys with no vowels in their names. Soon King George I was kicked out of the White Palace and a man from the land of Arkansas took his place. This man, King William I was not a very interesting man but at least he brought the countries economy from the evil mark of Bear to the mark of Bull. He helped the people, and created better laws. He courted many of the Ladies in Waiting including a certain Dame Monica, but we won't get into that. Soon his reign of eight hundred years were up and two...um...men were left to battle for the throne.  
Sir Albert Gore I was one of King William I's closest advisors. He and his wife, Lady Tipper lived in the White Palace with King William I for all eight hundred years. Now Sir Albert wanted a turn at the prized White Palace. It seemed Sir Albert Gore just might get his wish until a nasty fiend from the barren wastelands of Texas stepped in....his name was Dubya II.  
Soon thousands of people of drugs started to support Dubya II. They rallied as he killed mentally retarded boys and cheered as he promised to restore dignity to the White Palace. They didn't realize dignity was already there.  
Not too say Sir Albert Gore I was without faults (because you know he was). He often boasted of inventing several things, including the Internet which no one really knew what it was. He displayed explicit "sharings of love" with Lady TIpper, and was going bald.   
These were not the only valiant souls craving the White Palace. A certain Knight Raulph Lauren from the County of Greene longed to be King. And Sir Buchanan did too. But these men were not half so powerful as, say Dubya, and didn't stand a chance, sadly.  
Even so, at the royal debates, Sir Albert Gore I showed his intelligence. Yet because the Evil Dubya, was favored to screw up (and he didn't) Dubya was cheered on by default alone.  
The votes were tallied, and it came to be: a tie between Dubya and Sir Albert Gore I. The kingdom waited breathlessly for the world to announce that YES, SIR ALBERT GORE I WAS THE WINNER. Alas, in the middle of the night, Sir Jebby and Dame Katherine Harris snuck into where people were counting votes and burned every vote that was for Sir Albert Gore I. It was a dark day for the kingdom when the great judge said Dubya was the winner.  
Dubya could not understand the judges fancy talk of course, and had to wait for Daddy George I to give him a simpler explanation. When he found he was, indeed, the winner, Dubya celebrated by getting drunk, killing a couple people and then feasting on 300, 000, 456, 099 pork hocks in delight (Authors Note: This is a mere literary exaggeration, the real number of pork hocks Dubya downed is estimated at a mere 300, 000, 456, 089 pork hocks).  
So Dubya became King of the Land and the world gasped in horror as he decided to break his promise on taxes, giving enormous tax returns to the rich, and nothing to the peasants. He then declared war on Canada "For having a prettier flag" and after blowing up the nation decided it was high time for another four hundred years in office.  
Not to say King Dubya was a bad man; oh no, he spread good feelings throughout his four hundred short years. He brought together ultra conservatives and conservatives, whites and straight guys, men and older men, CEO's and oil tycoons. He created such a class, such diversity, that he will be known forever as the Assholes' President.  
You know, a great pyschic once said that the future king would have 6 letters in his first name and four in his last (for we all know Dubya's real name). If only the pyschic could count Sir Albert Gore's name....  
Well I suppose this story has ended, not so happily ever after. But that's ok, you'll survive. Now I need to leave--it's time for me to eat up my pork hocks!  



End file.
